


Playing From the Bench

by Tieleen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieleen/pseuds/Tieleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <em>Jess is a hunter; Sam is the ghost she's not sure she wants to stop haunting her. </em> Fair warning - not shippy, just tiny and random.</p><p>Also, a character death warning doesn't seem to fit here, but, I mean. Yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing From the Bench

"Fake a left! Fake a left, come on, look at how he's holding his shoulder, you can totally --"

Jess grits her teeth and jabs up hard. "SAM!"

The creature she's fighting, startled, stumbles back and takes its eyes off her for a second to scan the surroundings for whoever she's yelling at. Near-human intelligence can be a bitch sometimes; Jess uses the distraction to put a knife in its throat.

"Oh," Sam says, as they watch it slump to the ground. "That was pretty good, too. Could be cleaner, maybe."

Jess, crouching down to get her knife and wipe it off on the grass, glares up at him.

"Listen, Sam," she says, trying to make her voice patient. "I know you're bored, and I know you guys spend 80% of motel time watching TV, but seriously: I'm not Buffy, and you're not British. Can't you go do con crit for your brother?"

"It's not really worth much if he can't hear me," Sam points out. "Besides, he's three hundred miles away."

 _If he can't hear you, you can't distract him_ , Jess thinks but doesn't say. Then she sighs and says it after all; she likes to think she's a nice, considerate person, but she'd just as well not die on the job. Judging by the impression Sam gives, death is a pain in the ass.

Sam flinches a little. "Look, I just think it could help if you listened to me. I've spent a lot of years doing this."

Jess sighs again. "Look, how about, just, you wait until I ask for advice next time? Can we do that?"

"Yeah," he says, glumly, instead of asking her if she's ever going to.

Hunter etiquette calls for a shoulder slap now, or a shoulder bump, or possibly a shoulder swivel thing where you end up facing away from the other person and pretending there are no Feelings to be addressed anywhere. Sam doesn't have a shoulder to contribute to this, and although he'd probably appreciate the effort, Jess is still creeped out by the sensation of chilly mist in her bones that waving any part of hers through any part of his produces; she averages out all three and comes up with a fairly genuine smile.

"Come on," she says. "Let's go back to the motel. You can watch my TV tonight, and I'm sure Dean'll be back soon."

**Author's Note:**

> My note in the fill comment says: _I'm not sure if Dean and Jess work together in my head, but Sam glommed onto Jess through a ritual that went wrong -- he was supposed to haunt Dean, probably temporarily for some help with a case (and not at all because Dean missed him)._ Show-don't-tell is for people who can write more than one scene at a time.


End file.
